


Lions and Tigers

by CinderFelly



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Youtube (RPF), youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe-Virgil is a child, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Love, Platonic Relationships, Temper Tantrums, raising a kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 02:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12902238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderFelly/pseuds/CinderFelly
Summary: Virgil's history with the other sides is a little more complicated than they let on.(otherwise known as another baby!virgil au with the sides raising him)





	Lions and Tigers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Raising Anxiety](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661306) by [Itcouldbegayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itcouldbegayer/pseuds/Itcouldbegayer). 



> My friend Lily fell in love with Baby!Virgil au's so I had to try and take my own stab at one tbh. First chapter is kind of short since it's just an intro and set up tbh but !! I hope you enjoy.

It started small, when a miniscule black dot popped onto free wall the day Thomas turned five. 

It had appeared in short burst before, so they didn't pay much attention to it; they were too wrapped up in thoughts of books and games and family members they'd see today. When Thomas’s fears of being forgotten or how big the crowds or someone not showing up because they didn’t  _ like him _ went, so would it.

But this time … it didn't. 

The spot grew until they all noticed, but didn't say a word; only occasionally would they cast nervous glances its way. The darker and bigger it grew, so did Thomas' s fears. Then one day, it split. 

A crack in the wall that uncertainty seemed to spill out of at all times. That made your heart race and jumbled your thoughts until it was impossible to do much of anything. 

Needless to say, they all already hated it. 

Roman in particular seemed to despise it as they grew. Logan had to keep him from trying to tape it shut one day, dragging the creative side kicking and screaming away. Not that he seems to really understand  _ why _ . 

“Look at all the problem’s it’s causing Thomas.” Roman argued, waving his hands in a manner that made Logan exhausted to look at. Patton and Roman could be a bit … much, at times. 

“Technically speaking,” Roman groaned loudly, and Logan elected to ignore him. “It  _ is _ Thomas, in the same way you or I am. Everything in here has a purpose, and repressing it in such a sloppy way isn’t going to help anything.” 

“Sloppy _!? _ ”

Logan eyed the duct tape (that wasn’t even colored) meaningfully. Roman huffed. Neither of them noticed that, as they kept arguing, something around the small crack began moving in time with their shouts. 

“Is it my fault that this tape is the most sturdy?”

“Actually, yes. Being the creative side you could have simply altered the way it appears --” Hand clamps over Logan’s mouth, teeth clinking together in a sneer.

“Look, I know how to deal with monsters of all sorts, and whatever is in there isn’t anything good. We either entrap it now and go on our merry way or --”

Both sides jumped as a deafening  _ crack _ filled the hall. Their faces fell in shock, bodies pressing against the wall as the crack broke and expanded, black shadow spreading until it was  _ just  _ big enough for someone to slip through. 

Sludge flowed from the bottom of the hole, spilling out and staining their shoes. In the seconds that followed, an ominous silence covered them like a blanket They were unable to move or break said silence until Patton came rushing in. 

“Guys! What’s wrong, I heard a scary--oH--!!” Both sides watched tiredly as the fatherly moral side slipped in the sludge and barreled into the wall, staining his khakis and leaving a dent. As if they didn’t have enough repairs to do, currently. 

“I told you we needed to patch it.” Roman finally said, crossing his eyes and scowling at the dark. 

Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache began to form. Patton seemed to be done yelling about the ickiness covering him within a few minutes, standing up and flinging some of it off of his hands. It almost hit Roman, who threw him an accusatory glance and got apologetic smile in return. Then, his gaze fell to the hole.

A low whistle left Patton’s mouth. “Whew that is …. That doesn’t look too good.”

Soft whining and whispering began to float from the hole as if triggered by his words, and each side shuddered in tandem. Logan adjusted his tie, before reluctantly turning back to Roman. 

“You were right--”

“Of course I was.” Roman boasted, a sly and proud grin covering away his anxiety for a moment. “Now we can--”

“You were also wrong.”

“Excuse you--”

“No!” Logan snapped, placing his hands on Romans shoulders and looking him in the eye. “Whatever is in there can’t be suppressed. More stuff like this will happen, and who knows where we’ll be then.” 

“Well--what are we supposed to do?” Patton asked, unusually quiet and serious for the moment. 

“Though I’m reluctant to repeat myself --Roman was right about one thing. He has the most experience with … monsters.” Both sides turned towards the creative one now, one hopeful and the other regretful already. “How would you suggest dealing with this?”

Roman placed one hand on his hip and held the other up in flourish, a smirk on his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

                                                                                                                           -------

 

When they stepped inside the room, they all had to hold on to one another. The floor was slick and slimy, constantly shifting under their feet. Walls creaked and a clock ticked ominously in the distance. It was like the room was always moving, rearranging.

Coming into existence. 

Though that was creepy enough to send a certain side back, unsure muttering from the other and a bright brave grin as well as steady hands kept them all moving forward. One step at a time. Like learning to walk all over again. 

They went on through the dark, only a vague glow lighting the way for what felt like hours. They didn’t say a word to each other, only occasionally ducking down to avoid spider webs, or desperately clutching at another man to avoid slipping. 

As adventures went, Roman had had  _ far _ more entertaining once. 

Something was building, though. They all sensed it and snuck anxious glances at one another. A background sound that seemed to steadily get louder and louder as they neared something. 

“What if this is, as you say, a  _ boss run? _ ” Logan hissed out, almost afraid to raise his voice above a whisper.

“Then we’ll just have to be ready for the boss.” Roman smiled, though it wasn’t convincing. 

“I don’t think any of us are in a state to--”

“You said you’d listen to me.” Roman interjected, locking eyes with the Logical Side. 

“We are. Or, I am. Logan’s being a party pooper.” Another mini-earthquake seemed to rattle the sides, who had to kneel down on wet ground to keep from toppling over. Getting back up involved a lot of flailing limbs, and when they saw what had appeared, they almost wished they’d stayed down. 

There was a beat, where they all just stared at it, unable to make out what it was. 

“Hey,” Patton cleared his throat. “Uh--whatever happens, we all got each other’s backs right?” He holds his pinky finger up, and Roman immediately wraps his own around it.

“Right.” Two pinkies were now extended to Logan, who rolled his eyes near fondly.

“Trust me?” Though the words were said with a teasing tone, a layer of seriousness had Logan appraising him for a long second. Then, with a sigh, he linked his own pinkies with both of the men.

“I suppose I have no choice.” His words were monotone as usual, but his lips were curled in something that could almost be called a smile. 

“Onward we go.”

And they faced the monster head on and--

It was a child. 

“Thomas!?” Patton exclaims softly, free hand flying up to his mouth. 

“There is no possible way that that is Thomas,” Logan replies doubtfully, adjusting his glasses and peering in closer. “Though he does bear a striking resemblance.”

“That’s ...putting it rather lightly, don’t you think?”

The kid really did look like Thomas. As much as any one of them did, anyway. But instead of Thomas in his current state, it was maybe four or five year old Thomas. Messy brown hair spilled over his forehead, streaked with the black goo he was blanketed in. 

They could see that even though he was sleeping, it wasn’t restful, and his eyes had horrid black circles under them. It matched the dark goo tucked over him in a crude makeshift blanket. All in all it was just … sad. 

He wasn’t hardly moving at all, actually. He didn’t even appear to be breathing …

“You don’t think he’s ...y’know.” Roman made a vague crude gesture.

“I … don’t think that’s possible.” Though Logan sounded doubtful. “Perhaps this room was … killing Thomas’s childhood innocence? A side that we hadn’t even had the pleasure of meeting. Or a side that we’d blocked out and hadn’t seen for so long we had forgotten even existed? It’s hard to say for sure.”

They all looked upset, but Patton looked the most crestfallen of all. “We can’t just leave the poor kid in here. What if he’s hurt and needs help?” 

“What if he hurts  _ us _ and  _ we _ need help?” Logan muttered, Roman and Patton shooting him dirty looks.

They made it a few steps towards the boy, before something shifted over him and he let out a small gasp and his eyes started fluttering. The trio jumped back a bit, nearly falling down yet again in their fear.

As the small Not-Thomas sat up, the dark sludge that had been blanketing him slid away like water off of a duck’s back. Not-Thomas let out a loud yawn, seemingly still unaware of the sides, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with both fists.    
  
“Awww,” Patton couldn’t resist softly cooing at the sight. He immediately regretted it when a second later the child’s head snapped up, the ticking in the room growing faster and bugs skittering as his fear was evident.    
  
Not-Thomas skittered back several feet until he found a corner. There he curled up , arms around his knees, and chest erratically raising. For just a second, he appeared more like a wild animal than a little boy. Then, he cleared his throat, and obviously tried to mask his fear with boredom.    
  
“Oh gee.” Patton exclaimed, rubbing at the back of his neck. Logan and Roman pushed him forward, as he was better with children, being the “father character”.   
  
“Hey, buddy. Sorry for scaring you.” He murmured soothingly, uncaringly kneeling next to Not-Thomas in the goo. Not-Thomas didn’t react, glaring Patton down defiantly. “Uh–you got a name, kiddo?”   
  
“I don't have to tell you shit.”

The small voice was full of such hatred (and a  _ curse word  _ that it sent Patton reeling back. He gaped like a fish out of water for several seconds, eye bulging near out of his skull, desperately scrambling for a response. 

The shocked snickers in the background didn't help much either. Thanks, Roman. 

“Um-- that's ...uh--” is it Pattons imagination or does the child actually seem amused by how flabbergasted he was? “That's okay buddy.” He seems to decide on, nodding his head a bit as if to affirm that it was the write answer.

It was the wrong answer. 

“Yeah, I know.” All the monotone petulance of an angsty teen wrapped up in a teeny tiny package. If Patton wasn't the storehouse of emotions,  he would've missed the quiver in the kids voice, or how he was rolling the ends of his hoodie (which, adorably, fit him more like a dress) between his small fingers. 

“My name's Patton,” he continues softly-- _ carefully _ . “These are my friends Roman and Logan. We're Thomas’s Morality, Creativity, and Logic, and we--”

The second those words leave Patton's mouth, the child is ducking under his legs and  scrambling full speed away from him. Small, panicked whimpers could be heard--and hell if that didn't just break his heart. 

Without thinking, Patton dives and scoops up the child, who immediately begins kicking and screaming. The whole room thunders with his shouts, clocks ticking so fast it was almost a constant ringing. A tiny fist in his stomach is accompanied with a particular bad shake to the ground, and it’s all Patton can do to keep from dropping the child.

Behind him, he can hear Logan and Roman squealing as they splash down in the black slime. “Put it  _ down _ \--” he thinks he hears Roman shout, before dramatic voice turns into a panicked gurgle. The sludge they'd waded through before was rising fast. 

“LEMME GO!” Not-Thomas screeched, flailing desperately in Patton's arms, which just caused him to hold on tighter. Nails dig in where they find purchase, fists containing more power behind them than they should. Patton has to bite back a wince, both at the volume and the blood pooling from crescent cuts.  “LEMME GO LEMME  _ GO  _ **_LEMME_ ** \--”

“Shh,” The fatherly side tries to quiet him, even as the goop begins to rise almost to his chest. The fast escalation of the events would normally be a joke, but it really seemed like this spike in behavior came out of nowhere. He didn't know what to do.

Not-Thomas is sobbing now, his tears as black as the liquid filling the room. He sniffles and looks Patton dead in the eyes, face blank even as his next words are laced in malice. “Your friends all hate you.”

“E-Excuse me--” He wasn't expecting that, and left out a startled laugh. “I don't understand?”

The child was now quiet, and the room around them did the same. Without any warning it was utterly still except for his own breathing. Pattons friends still had not gotten up, but he was rooted in spot, unable to look away from the tiny terror. 

“Everyone hates you,” Not-Thomas continues after a beat, head tilted as if studying the other side. “You're useless. You don't provide anything new to the table. Thomas is too big for you.” 

Pattons grip slackens the slightest bit, and the child continues. “You're nothing.  _ Thomas _ is nothing because of you. How long has it been since Joan stopped by? Didn't they used to come over all the time?” His voice is soft and scratchy, a stained hand reaching to smear darkness on Pattons cheek. “It's our fault they stopped. They hate us.”

Patton finally hears his friends moving, and is vaguely aware of the room shifting for the last time. The goop lowers until it's mostly gone, a small room with only a broken bed and spiderwebs. He doesn't care, all his attention on the kid in his arms. 

Even then, his hold isn't strong enough, and the child finally breaks away. The kid sniffs, running his sleeve over his nose. “None of you want me here, so you can go.” Fragile chin is held high, mouth curling distastefully. He has more to say, and will if they choose to remain. 

“Patt--” a hand closes over his wrist, trying to drag him out of the room. He doesn't budge. “ _ Patton _ \--”

“What are you?” Patton feels himself asking a second later, biting his tongue as he regrets his words. But …

The child just laughs. Normally he loves the sound of kids laughing, but this one is scratchy and dark and full of  _ bitterness _ . Shivers race up Patton’s back as the kid hops up on the rickety bed. He won’t look at any of them now, seeming tired and lost and so incredibly  _ small _ . “What's it matter? You're all gonna hate me anyway.” A pause, and another horrible laugh. “They already do--for good reason.”

Patton wants to assure him that they won't, but after the little tantrum moments before he's not sure he can speak for the other signs. 

Weak and wobbly, he can only ask again. “What are you?”

The kid finally looks at him again, menacing and well-spoken even though he's practically a toddler. Even though tears are still streaking silently down his face. “Anxiety.” The kid--Anxiety--wipes at his nose with his sleeve as Logan and Roman both try and pull him away. 

Then, in a voice filled with more power and fear than any five year old should contain, he shouts at them one last time. “Now, get out of my room!”

It's all they can do to obey. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how often I'll be updating this tbh. I'm working on other projects as well as participating in a Secret Santa--this is kind of just my in-between and warm up exercise fic. If you want more, please review and let me know! I'm also taking suggestions of small things to include in the fic!!
> 
> For updates and things like that, catch me at my [ tumblr. ](https://cinderfelly.tumblr.com)


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